Someone Dies, Someone Lives

154 Pages·2016·1.48 MB·English

by  McDaniel Lurlene

From the corner of her eye, Katie saw a boy with red hair who was
about her age. He stood near the doorway, looking nervous. With a start,
she realized he was watching her, because he kept diverting his gaze
when she glanced his way. Odd, Katie told herself. Katie had a nagging
sense she’d seen him before, even though she couldn’t place him. As
nonchalantly as possible, she rolled her wheelchair closer, picking up a
magazine as she passed a table.
She flipped through the magazine, pretending to be interested, all the
while glancing discreetly toward the boy. Even though he also picked up
a magazine, Katie could tell that he was preoccupied with studying her.
Suddenly, she grew self-conscious. Was something wrong with the way
she looked? She’d thought she looked better than she had in months
when she’d left her hospital room that afternoon. Why was he watching
her?
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Published by
Dell Laurel-Leaf
an imprint of
Random House Children’s Books
a division of Random House, Inc.
New York
Copyright © 1992 by Lurlene McDaniel
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eISBN: 978-0-30777632-7
RL: 5.0
Reprinted by arrangement with Bantam Books
v3.1
Contents
Cover
Also Available in Dell Laurel-Leaf Books
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Author’s Note
Other Books by This Author
One
Dear Katie,
You don’t know me, but I know about you, and because I do, I want to give you a special gift.
Accompanying this letter is a certified check, my gift to you, with no strings attached, to spend on
anything you want. No one knows about this gift except you, and you are free to tell anyone you
want.
Who I am isn’t really important, only that you and I have much in common. Through no fault of
our own, we have endured pain and isolation and have spent many days in a hospital feeling
lonely and scared. I hoped for a miracle, but most of all I hoped for someone to truly understand
what I was going through.
I can’t make you live longer, I can’t stop you from hurting. But I can give you one wish, as
someone did for me. My wish helped me find purpose, faith, and courage.
Friendship reaches beyond time, and the true miracle is in giving, not receiving. Use my gift to
fulfill your wish.
Your Forever Friend, JWC
KATIE O‘ROARK REREAD the letter that had mysteriously appeared in the
drawer of her bedside table at the hospital two weeks before. It had been
in a long envelope, sealed with red wax and stamped with OLW, for the
One Last Wish Foundation. She remembered the numbing shock she’d
experienced as she read the letter and found a certified check for one
hundred thousand dollars. No matter how many times she went over the
letter, she was unable to figure out the identity of her benefactor. The
check, made out to her and signed by a Richard Holloway, whom she’d
also never heard of, was hers to spend on anything she wanted. Her
parents couldn’t figure it out, either, but it was no joke. The money was
now in the bank.
“Still trying to solve that mystery?” her mother asked, coming into
Katie’s bedroom. “Your father’s tried everything he knows and can’t
come up with an answer.”
Katie’s dad was a reporter on an Ann Arbor newspaper, and had access
to computer banks of data and information. If anyone could find out
about the Foundation, Dan O’Roark could. Even he couldn’t, though.
“It bothers me, not knowing who’d give me so much money,” Katie
said. “I want to know who and why.”
“Don’t think about it. If the generous JWC wanted you to know, he or
she wouldn’t act so secretive. Let’s just be grateful.”
Katie adjusted the flexible tubing attached to the oxygen tank beside
her bed and leaned wearily against her pillow. The money was a
fantastic gift all right, but how could it buy her the one thing she needed
most? No amount of money could purchase her a new heart.
“I came up to tell you that Melody’s here. She wants to see you. Are
you up to visitors?” her mother asked.
Melody Bernelli, Katie’s sixteen-year-old best friend, stopped by every
day after school. Katie wanted to see her, but couldn’t deny that
Melody’s visits were becoming harder emotionally. Melody reminded her
too much of the “normal” world she’d had to leave behind months
before. “Sure, Mom. Tell her to come up,” Katie replied, tucking the
letter under her sheet.
Minutes later, Melody bounced into the room, her brown eyes wide
with concern. “Your mom said you had a bad night.” Melody dragged a
chair over to the bed. “I won’t stay long, but I just had to see you, Katie.
I almost skipped last period today because I got this horrible feeling that
you were worse and that I wasn’t going to get to see you again.”
Katie smiled, although the effort cost her. Even the smallest tasks
robbed her of strength. “I’m no worse,” she assured her friend. “No
better, either.”
“I just can’t believe this is happening to you,” Melody wailed. “How
will the track team manage without you next spring?”
Ann Arbor High was a big school with well over twelve hundred
students in attendance. The girls’ junior year had just barely begun.
“Coach Hudson stopped by last night,” Katie said. “She tried to give me
a pep talk, but unless a miracle happens, I won’t be running track
again.”
“Mrs. Collins wants to do an article in the school newspaper about
you.”
Katie frowned. “I wouldn’t like that. Dad’s already run one in his
sports column about me. I hate having half of Michigan knowing about
my problems.”
“Why? When he writes about you, he’s impartial. He never gives our
school’s track team more space than any other. Even last year, when we
won all-city and you had the best time on your leg of the relay race. This
time, it’s different, Katie. This time, if more people read about what’s
happening to you, maybe you’ll have a better chance.”
“Better chance for what?” Katie asked as she took deep breaths of
oxygen. “My only chance is to get a new heart. Who’s got one to spare?”
Melody hung her head, and Katie saw that her eyes had filled with
tears. “Don’t cry, Melly—it won’t help, and it makes me feel bad,” Katie
whispered.
Melody grabbed a tissue from the table next to the bed and dabbed
her eyes. “I can’t help it. It’s all so unfair! Why did this happen to you?”
Katie had no answers. The past few months of her life seemed like a
nightmare. She’d gotten a cold—a simple, ordinary cold—last May. It
had persisted, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t shake the
lingering fatigue and shortness of breath. Soon, even climbing the stairs
to her room had become a chore. She’d experienced dizzy spells, and
although it was June, she’d felt cold all the time.
“You’re going to the doctor for a thorough exam,” her mother had
insisted.
Her family doctor had referred her to the teaching hospital at the
University of Michigan, where she’d become the patient of Dr. Curtis, a
cardiologist. He put her through various tests. She could hardly complete
the treadmill test, a real embarrassment for the girl who’d been named